Chapter 112
Mitchell usually doesn’t wear clothes to sleep, but he at least wears underwear. However, today he’s taking off even his underwear. Damn him.
He said he wouldn’t touch me, but was that a lie?
While arranging the apron to hide my precious thing like a pervert, I was racking my brain like a genius doctor.
“Swear you really won’t do anything today. Otherwise, I’ll go sleep alone in the living room. I’m really tired, that’s why.”
This guy was the type to touch me little by little, and when I start melting with pleasure, he’d devour me in no time.
I had no intention of actually going to sleep alone in the living room, but I tried to threaten him anyway.
“I really won’t do anything.”
That doesn’t sound convincing coming from you when you’re naked.
“Let’s just talk and sleep today.”
“…Really?”
I couldn’t trust him until the end.
“We’ll really just talk and then sleep?”
“Yes.”
When I asked again, Mitchell shook his head and lay down spread-eagle. It seemed genuine.
If I had a small wish here, it would be to pull out the blanket underneath and cover myself, but for now, I decided to trust Mitchell’s words. The way he was trying to calm his rough breathing, his chest visibly rising and falling, made him look like someone who had really made up his mind.
Thinking I shouldn’t disturb Mitchell as he tried to calm his excitement, I stayed still, covering myself with the apron instead of the blanket.
Lying on my side, I scanned Mitchell’s entire body with my eyes, observing it as if it were my body in the distant future.
If I just exercise hard, I could be like Mitchell… Well, maybe not in this lifetime.
As I was quietly stealing glances at Mitchell’s body, something suddenly caught my eye. I secretly gulped and checked on Mitchell, who had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths.
Once again, I lowered my gaze and stared at that smooth, hairless area. Foreigners consider hair removal essential, so for our neat Mitchell, it must have been a given.
I knew this intellectually, but every time I saw it, I found it fascinating and my eyes were drawn to it.
“By the way, do you do this yourself…”
Driven by impulsive curiosity, a question popped out before I knew it. The curiosity I had sworn to ask about someday burst out right here and now.
Feeling embarrassed and wondering if it was too personal a question, I couldn’t finish my sentence, but Mitchell turned his head towards me.
“What?”
Mitchell’s eyes were on the apron, not on me. His frowning expression seemed precarious. Worried that I might have disturbed someone who was trying so hard to restrain himself, I quickly spoke up. It was to make Mitchell focus on something other than my body.
“I mean, do you do the hair removal yourself?”
Unwavering gaze, clear pronunciation, confident expression.
I tried to act like a gentleman in my own way.
“Sorry if it’s an inappropriate question.”
I added a handful of courtesy as well.
“No, it’s fine.”
Fortunately, Mitchell brushed my bangs back and responded casually. His expression had returned to his usual calm face from the precarious one earlier.
“I go to a hair removal salon. There’s a skilled waxing specialist.”
“Ah.”
As he answered so readily, my curiosity hung like a bunch of grapes. Unable to hold back, I fired off the next question, and then the next.
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not really for me.”
“Is the waxing specialist a man?”
“Yes, a man.”
“Are you two alone? Or do other people come in?”
“Of course, it’s just the waxing specialist and me.”
“I see. Then do you take off all your pants?”
“Sometimes I just pull them down to my thighs, and if they’re uncomfortable pants, I take them off completely.”
I couldn’t imagine the great Mitchell going to a hair removal salon and pulling down his pants. I raised my voice without realizing it.
“You mean you just show everything like that?”
Even for Mitchell, who’s comfortable with nudity, this somehow felt strange. My expression hardened, feeling like he was doing something unseemly.
“I don’t show everything, I cover with a towel. When they move down, it might be half visible. But I don’t really mind.”
What does the waxing specialist think when he sees Mitchell’s naked lower half?
Does he think it’s big? Does he think it’s pretty? Does he want to eat it?
“That waxing specialist… he’s not gay, is he?”
I felt like I might have asked a somewhat low-quality question. I fidgeted with my apron unnecessarily.
“I’m not sure about Henry’s sexual preferences.”
So the waxing specialist’s name is Henry.
“Henry doesn’t touch your thing or anything, right?”
“He does touch it very occasionally.”
“Why? Why does he touch it? Why is he touching someone else’s important part like that? It doesn’t seem necessary to touch it at all.”
As my voice gradually rose, the corners of Mitchell’s mouth rose along with it. Mitchell seemed to be enjoying this conversation. I was completely the opposite.
“It really seems like Henry is interested in you. I’m really good at noticing these things, you know. That person likes you. He has ulterior motives for you! Right? Otherwise, there’s no reason he would touch it.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Why not? It is!”
“It gets hard, so it needs to be pushed down.”
“What?”
“You’ve seen my thing stuck to my stomach, right? It sometimes gets hard there. Even the towel doesn’t help. They have to forcibly push it down when it’s stuck to my stomach, so they have no choice but to touch it.”
“Hey!”
I sprang up like a released spring. Just as a string of curses was about to come out, Mitchell grabbed my hand and placed it on his stomach.
The hand gradually moved down, down, and finally touched that smooth area. As I touched the soft skin, I felt like I was breaking into a cold sweat.
“You sometimes have those moments too, right? When it gets hard for no reason.”
Without being told, I moved my fingers and made eye contact with Mitchell. Mitchell seemed pleased, smiling at the corners of his mouth while fiddling with the apron.
As if under a spell, I touched Mitchell’s smooth skin while looking down at him. The atmosphere felt very sticky.
And then it finally got hard. Calmly looking at the thing that had grown big enough to stick to his stomach, I channeled the waxing specialist and pushed it down.
“See? You have to touch it, right?”
Mitchell’s eyes sparkled as if revealing a hidden secret.
“I guess so.”
I forcibly pressed down on that thick thing while trying to collect myself. To Henry, Mitchell is just a customer. It’s natural to have physical contact when a waxing specialist is doing their job. But Mitchell was the type of guy who could turn even straight people gay.
What if Henry falls for Mitchell?
No, regardless of that, I just didn’t like the idea of anyone else touching Mitchell.
I unconsciously clenched my fist.
Come to think of it, how many people besides me touch our Mitchell? It was hard to estimate.
People who touch Mitchell, talk with him, and share emotions. I was also curious about how Mitchell thought of them. Normal colleagues? Friends? Just simple acquaintances without any special meaning?
Ah, ah…
I don’t understand why it’s so complicated to make Mitchell completely mine.
Even though our relationship seems to have become quite close, I found myself getting more and more impatient with Mitchell as time passed.
Feeling anxious and frustrated while touching Mitchell’s smooth area, I suddenly felt incompetent.
In my heart, I want to be Mitchell’s driver, Mitchell’s bodyguard, close friend, Korean language teacher, manager, stylist, waxing specialist, and everything else. But in reality, I’m just a freeloader living in Mitchell’s house.
A pervert freeloader wearing only an apron.
“Haa.”
When I sighed, Mitchell raised his eyebrows and grabbed the apron.
“Why? Do you want to do it too?”
The hand that lifted the apron crept inside and gently caressed my lower area with its fingers.
Dumbfounded, I let out a deflating laugh and opened my mouth.
“If I get the chance.”
Because my mind was so complicated, Mitchell’s actions didn’t feel troublesome or threatening at all. Even if this guy had sucked on my thing, I might have just gone along with it.
I just lay down as I was. Then Mitchell went under the apron and rested his face somewhere on my pelvis. Seeing how he had completely settled in, it seemed he was going to stay like that.
Thinking it was amusing how much he liked the apron, I stroked Mitchell’s back.
How to possess Mitchell.
How should I perfectly possess Mitchell?
In this state, it seemed woefully inadequate to fill Mitchell’s mind completely with me.
…Should I really imprison him?
Without a clear solution, bad thoughts kept coming up. I had similar thoughts before, and now those bad intentions were bubbling up again. It was a completely unrealistic worst-case scenario.
Not imprisonment.
I shook my head soon after. Our relationship had to be fun and positive in every way, so ‘imprisonment’ was as uncomfortable a word as ‘obsession’.
Even while thinking it wasn’t right, I looked for something similar. The premise of needing to confine him was still there.
While trying to think of a fun and positive way to confine Mitchell, I slightly lowered my head.
Being confined in the apron seems fun…
I had the ridiculous thought of having to hide him in an apron every day, then carefully got up.
“Mitchell. I’m going to get my phone.”
My phone was in the living room. Although I said I was tired, being a pervert freeloader, I wanted to use my phone a bit before sleeping, so I asked. Fortunately, Mitchell came out from under the apron.
As I got up from the bed and headed to the living room, I suddenly became aware of my appearance. My bottom was half-exposed, barely covered by the apron. I let out a strange yelp and hurriedly moved.
Meanwhile, Mitchell followed behind me, alternating between gently slapping my buttocks and softly caressing them. He completely wrapped his arms around my upper body, almost restraining me in an embrace.
When I returned to the bedroom, I tried to take off my socks and apron too. I was about to check where my underwear had fallen and put it on, but Mitchell, who had already lain down on the bed, urgently pulled me in, causing me to fail.
Although he didn’t mention it explicitly, Mitchell clearly liked the apron. If it weren’t for his vow not to touch me, I probably would have been devoured several times in this outfit. I’m sure of it.
Mitchell put his head back under the apron and hugged me as if twisting my body. He even suddenly turned off the lights, leaving me no time to look at my phone.
“Good night, Geon-woo.”
“Yeah, you too.”
It seems Mitchell is determined to sleep inside my apron.
Is this what imprisonment is like?
I closed my eyes with Mitchell confined in my apron. But sleep didn’t come easily. As I pondered ways to completely possess Mitchell, I came to a conclusion. That the current state was insufficient. That change was necessary.
